Page 32 of Nave (Henchmen MC: Next Generation #14)

“Loll?” I called, my voice soft so I didn’t startle her as I walked through the darkened house.

We’d moved in the week before.

It hadn’t been a big affair since neither of us actually owned any furniture of our own.

Lolly had drifted dreamily around the space while I carried in our clothes and Edith’s things, along with a few kitchen supplies we’d picked up so we could at least feed ourselves while we waited for the deliveries of our new furniture.

Only half of it had arrived so far: the whole bedroom set, a couch and loveseat in the living room, and an island for the kitchen. But we were waiting for our dining set, all our end tables and dressers, and the rugs and window treatments.

We weren’t in a rush.

It was nice to slowly settle in and make it our own.

“Loll?” I called again as I saw the light on in the nursery. It was another room without furniture, though that was by design. We were waiting to pick anything out until we knew the gender.

When I moved into the doorway, I found her standing there in her fluffy dog-printed robe that Gracie had bought her when she’d found out about her breaking her wrist. She was staring at the wall, looking at the six paint swatches stuck there.

“What are you doing, babe?”

“Well, I figured that we are going to be seeing this room at two a.m. a lot. I wanted to see what they all looked like at this hour.”

“In that case,” I said, moving back out and coming back with the small table lamp we kept in the hallway, then plugging it in.

I flicked off the big light and the lamp offered a golden glow without lighting up the whole room.

“I think we will be seeing it in this light, since we wouldn’t want to wake the baby all the way up for a feeding or a change. ”

I moved in behind her, wrapping my arms around her.

She had the tiniest of swells in her lower stomach, a hint at the bump to come.

“You’re right,” Lolly said, leaning her head back into me. “That changes everything.”

“Which one are you leaning toward?”

“Actually…”

A little laugh escaped me. She’d been full of “actuallys” lately. She claimed it was because it was the first time in years she’d lived in a home where the walls weren’t made of glass. I figured it was because it was the first time she’d ever been given free rein to decorate any way she wanted.

I honestly didn’t have any strong feelings about design, so I was having fun just learning what lit Lolly up. She was particularly fond of the butter yellow color she’d picked out for the kitchen. Each morning when she was getting a cup of decaf coffee, I would find her smiling at the walls.

“Have a fun new idea?” I asked, always careful not to make it sound like it was silly how she was often changing her mind. She’d gone so many years without having any choices. It was natural that she would struggle making decisions now.

“I was thinking maybe of doing a half-wall of beadboard or board-and-batten and then doing a sweet wallpaper on the upper half.”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

“I know I said I wanted solid…”

“It’s important to get it just right,” I cut her off. “Besides, it’s not like either of us are doing the work.”

“Have I mentioned how much I like having prospects to do the hard work?” she asked.

“Even if you feel guilty about it and have to cook for them?”

“I still can’t believe they ate that stew. It was so bad.”

“It was… edible.”

“Sure, if you held your nose and swallowed, like with medicine when you’re a kid.”

“It was, you know, a learning lesson.”

“I can’t believe no one got food poisoning.”

“It wasn’t undercooked.”

She just forgot, you know, broth. So it was water and veggies and spices. Not the worst thing I’d ever eaten, but she’d definitely made better meals. Her specialties were meals that were the grown-up version of cheap childhood meals. Like Hamburger Helper and beef-a-roni.

As a whole, though, she asked me to cook.

And I finally understood why my father seemed to like cooking so much. It wasn’t necessarily the act itself (though I did enjoy that too), but because it was making something for someone you loved.

Yeah, loved.

Honestly, it had been that for weeks, but it was just a few days ago when we’d both said it.

We had bellies full of pizza and garlic knots and had both fallen into bed to try to sleep off our food comas.

She’d snuggled into me and said the words.

It was like a final puzzle piece in my life had clicked into place.

“I definitely think it’s the middle one,” Lolly decided. “For the lower half.”

“Sounds perfect.”

These days, damn near everything did.

Lolly - 3 months

“Matilda,” Luna suggested as she passed the doorway of the library conference room.

So far, all of her baby name suggestions had been based on books. Because, well, it was Luna. Books were her life.

The last one, when I’d first walked in to take my class, had been March. Not like the month, but like the March sisters from Little Women .

“That might go on the list,” I decided.

Ever since we learned the sex, Nave and I had been looking for the perfect name. We really wanted a name that was longer and more adult-sounding but had cute ways to cut it down into a nickname.

Matilda fit the bill. She could be a doctor, a lawyer, a CEO with a corner office.

But also, Matty or Tilly were the perfect little kid nicknames.

“How did your class go?” Luna asked as she rearranged the books on her cart.

“It was amazing. The instructor was great,” I said, sharing a little smile with her.

“Right? I can’t believe someone as talented as him was willing to teach some of his skills for free.”

“Did you bribe Junior, or did Peyton threaten him?”

“A little bit of both,” she admitted.

Yes, Junior.

Teaching a coding class.

I never could have guessed that I would find my passion in computers, of all things. After all I’d been through with Ben, I figured I would have a knee-jerk aversion to technology.

But once I got a laptop, I was hooked. Not just browsing the internet and making design boards for the nursery, the house, the backyard, and the future basement remodel, but getting into the nitty-gritty of how they worked, about coding and hacking and security.

Once Junior told me about how Ben had slowly, methodically found me, how he’d stalked and hurt his exes, an idea sparked.

And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do.

I wanted to work in internet security.

I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to be a penetration tester or a security analyst to prevent stalking, or to become a forensic analyst to prove someone was stalked so their abuser could go away.

But I knew for sure that I wanted to protect vulnerable women from predatory men in this new day and age of internet stalking.

Best yet? Junior assured me it was a career I could do from home, so I didn’t need to be away from my baby once she came.

Now that I knew Nave better, understood his work and income more, I knew that he was capable of providing for us fully without me bringing in an income. But I wanted to bring in money. Even if I didn’t charge much for my services.

Nave had been thrilled for me when I’d decided on this path, claiming that Navesink Bank was full of security experts and hackers who could teach me everything they knew—from Junior to Junior’s mom, Alex, and their aunt Janie.

To the newer crew at Hailstorm. I had a wealth of knowledge to draw from as my skills improved.

Though, right then, I was still learning the basics. One day a week, coding with Junior. Another day a week, learning cybersecurity with a local expert who used to work cyber crimes for the FBI.

I was loving it.

“How has Blanche been settling in?” Luna asked. “I love her name, by the way.”

“She’s great! Edith is such a good big sister. She keeps leading her over to the water dish, like the puppy is going to forget where it is. And she shares her toys and chews with her. Even though Blanche is like five times her size.”

We’d put feelers out about possibly getting another dog. It took no time at all for our vet’s mother, Rey, to deliver. A local rescue had come across a hoarding situation where twenty-six different sized poodles had been pulled out of deplorable living conditions.

Blanche had been an eight-month-old black standard poodle who had to be fully shaved down to get rid of her mats and clear up a skin condition from the bacteria being trapped beneath.

Nave and I knew the moment we saw Edith ignore all the other dogs closer to her size and rush over to a sad-eyed Blanche.

Once we talked to the rescue, making sure Blanche was dog and kid-friendly, we brought her home.

Edith was thrilled.

We were so happy to watch a shy, abused dog come out of her shell and learn to trust and love. Now, she was a complete treat, doing zooms so hard that the carpet flipped over and she knocked lamps off of tables.

Edith even brought her new sister over to meet the big dogs at the homestead when we did our usual visits.

I didn’t live there any longer. I wouldn’t ever again. But a part of my heart and soul was at that farm. I’d felt freedom there. I’d started to heal there.

So I stopped by to see the animals, to pet the dogs, to see Kit and Ariah’s new projects, to listen to their plans and talk about my own.

On top of my classes and trips to the homestead, there was also a girls’ night with Gracie, Layna, Luna, Willa, and the other princesses, if they could sneak away.

As if that wasn’t enough, Nave’s parents had us over every weekend for dinner.

And, occasionally, I still hung out at the clubhouse to get closer with the guys.

I went from being all alone for pretty much my whole life, to being surrounded by people who loved me and who I loved back, people who brought so much joy and kindness to my life.

I was part of a family even as Nave and I were creating our own.

It was more than I could have ever hoped for when I’d run for my life from the glass house one day.

I had Nave to thank for all of that.